


sam arias tackles lena luthor's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

by gaydisasterdanvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Multi, lena luthor is stubborn, sam and her milf instincts, samariasweek, the pre-reigncorp friendship we all needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydisasterdanvers/pseuds/gaydisasterdanvers
Summary: It dawns on her, then, that maybe neither of them is really all that experienced in the friendship department. Hell, the closest thing that Sam has had to an actual friend in the past 8 years is her daughter, Ruby.--Written for Sam Arias Week 2020
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias & Lena Luthor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	sam arias tackles lena luthor's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

**Author's Note:**

> sorry the title is insanely dumb
> 
> this was written for part of Sam Arias Appreciation Week 2020.
> 
> **Day 2**  
>  L Corp
> 
> **event tumblr:** samarias-week  
>  **my tumblr:** gaydisasterdanvers

It’s still surreal in a way, that she has the privilege of walking the executive floor without question. It’s tranquil, the only sound is the hum of the air conditioner. It’s barely audible over the soft patter of rain against the floor to ceiling windows lining the hallway. From above, Metropolis is actually kind of pretty in its own regard. Sure, it can be cold and dreary, the sun hidden beneath a thick wall of dark clouds. But it isn’t half bad. Honestly, it’s missing the charm and warmth of National City, but it’s slowly starting to feel a little more like home. At least that’s what Sam will keep telling herself until she believes it.

The quiet of the space is unnerving, the sound of her heels on the polished marble deafening as she makes her way towards the office at the end of the hall.  
  


At the sound of heels approaching, Jess’s head peeks up from over the top of her PC monitor. The tense frown across her features gives way to a terse grin, and it’s confirmation enough that Sam’s intuition was not off base.

  
Call it motherly instincts or a sixth sense, it’s as though some days she’s possessed by the spirit of mothers past. It creeps in, uneasy and ever persistent as it nags at her insides. Worry. The overwhelming need to right wrongs and take care of those who need it but don’t know how to ask.

  
Sam smiles brightly at the young woman, all teeth and smile lines that extend to warm brown eyes.

  
But Jess’s smile doesn’t follow suit, it simply falters back into a press of her lips into a flat line.

  
“That bad, huh?” Sam asks carefully, letting her smile drop into a concerned frown. 

  
Jess’s eyes search the surroundings, but it’s just them, and once she feels safe in responding she lets out a soft sigh and nods. 

  
“Well here,” Sam says as she juggles the cardboard coffee carrier in her hand, withdrawing one of the cups and placing it soundly on the desktop, “chai latte, a little pick me up.”

  
The faintest of smiles graces the woman’s lips as she regards the cup and then looks up at Sam, “Thank you, Ms. Arias.”

  
“Oh, please,” she replies with a playful roll of her eyes, “It’s Sam.”

  
“Thank you, Sam,” Jess corrects, noticing that Sam’s gaze lingers on the set of double doors to the executive office. “She’s in and available as far as her schedule shows. But, be careful. It’s been a day.”

  
Collecting her things, Sam moves towards the door. Before reaching for the handle, she turns back over her shoulder to Jess and says, “Believe me, there is nothing about Ms. Luthor I can’t handle and coffee can’t fix.”

  
When she opens the door, she isn’t surprised to find that Lena is behind her desk, nose buried in her computer screen. The CEO is so focused on the glowing screen that she doesn’t notice the door open. Sam steps into the space, using a pointed heel to close the door behind her. Her strides are quiet and careful, an attempt to let Lena acknowledge her presence before she startles her.

  
“I wasn’t quite sure how you took your coffee… so, I got a little of everything,” Sam says softly, gesturing to the carrier of three cups perched in her right hand, “also, water and a few pastries in case coffee isn’t enough.”

  
Lena’s eyes tear away from her screen and towards the sound of Sam’s voice, widening in surprise before softening at the sight of Sam confidently stepping into her office space. The CEO’s eyes regard the woman’s smile, warm and reassuring before her gaze dips to the items in her friend’s hands. Her brows lift, arching in question as she flattens her palms on the surface of her desk before pushing to stand.

  
“What’s the occasion?” Lena asks, her voice low and heavy with suspicion. 

  
“You’re having a bad day,” Sam replies matter-of-factly, setting the coffee and bag of pastries on the edge of Lena’s desk. From the looks of it, she hasn’t moved in hours. Typically organized, her desktop is barely visible beneath piles of paper.

  
“What- no,” Lena replies quickly. _Too quickly._

  
The look Sam shoots her speaks volumes, primarily, it says _‘I know you’re lying, save it’_. 

  
Lena clears her throat, forcing a soft smile on painted lips.

  
“I assure you I am _fine_.”

  
“You seriously sent an email that said ‘per my last email’ which is basically the work-safe version of ‘you’re a fucking idiot’ and signed with without any polite, professional sign-off,” Sam scoffs, grasping the edge of the desk and leaning her body across the space towards Lena, “You don’t have to hide it, I’m not here to judge. I’m here to _help_.”

  
Lena’s brow furrows, and Sam watches carefully as the confusion painted across her features begins to slowly fade into something resembling surprise. If Lena Luthor is truly that surprised by the idea of someone wanting to help her, she’s really going to be in for a shock when she realizes just how persistent Sam Arias can be when it comes to being a supportive friend. 

  
Regarding Sam carefully, Lena allows her gaze to find Sam’s and hold it, steady and warm. It’s evident, despite her aloof demeanor that there is turmoil hiding behind emerald green irises. Sam sees it clear as day. Lena _wants_ to let her in. She wants to share, but it’s as if she doesn’t quite know how.

  
“You could tell all that just from an email?” Lena says as her pupils scan back and forth across Sam’s, searching for any hint of deception. 

  
“Absolutely, Ms. Luthor. It’s a break in the norm,” Sam nods and straightens, arms crossing loosely over her chest, “Since I’ve worked here, every email is signed off with ‘regards’.”

  
“One, that is not true,” Lena says pointedly, “And two, I’ve told you, it’s Lena.”

  
“Yeah, outside of work, sure. But you’re my boss. My _boss’s_ boss, so I want to make sure I’m not overstepping.”

  
“Hardly, and I know you don’t care either way, Ms. ‘ _I’m bringing you coffee in exchange for your deepest thoughts and feelings_ ’, ” Lena replies, casting a playful yet menacing smirk in Sam’s direction as she steps around the large glass desk and grabs the grease stained paper bag. She unfurls the folded top, peeking at the contents curiously before glancing up at Sam, “What are my coffee options?”

  
“I’ve told you, it’s _Sam_ ,” she throws back at Lena with the same sarcastic zest, “Jess already claimed the chai latte. So, you’re left with: coffee, black. But, there’s cream and sugar in the bag just in case. A latte, unflavored, and then a vanilla latte. ”

  
“The coffee, please.”

  
Lena carefully picks a small piece of cinnamon twist from the bag and pops it into her mouth with a soft hum. 

  
“I knew it. I totally pegged you as the simple confection free type,” Sam observes, offering the paper cup to Lena.

  
Lena accepts the cup and in exchange, she retrieves a small piece of pastry from the bag and raises it to Sam’s lips. It’s oddly intimate given the professional nature of their friendship, but Sam opens her mouth and takes the offering between her teeth. The swirl of cinnamon and sugar floods her senses and the dough is still warm against her taste buds. It’s so good that a soft moan echoes from her throat. She can feel the green eyes that linger, watching as the sticky treat disappears between her lips. 

  
It takes a moment, but Lena refocuses her gaze. 

  
“What gave you that impression?” she asks, arching a brow before taking a quick sip of her drink.

  
“You seem like the ‘coffee black, whiskey neat’ type of woman,” Sam shrugs, wiping a bit of flaky glaze from the corner of her lips, “And since I already know how you take your whiskey, the coffee should’ve been easy.”

  
“Well, you’re not wrong,” Lena replies, motioning towards the stark white leather couch at the opposite end of her office, “You know me better than most.”

  
“I know,” Sam says smartly with an exaggerated wink as she follows Lena to the stark modern sitting area. 

  
Lean takes a seat at one end of the couch, ankles crossed and spine rod-straight. It’s possibly the least relaxed position Sam has seen _anyone_ sit in. It’s statuesque in a way that screams _‘I went to Etiquette school and do not know how to actually relax on furniture_ ’. Sam nearly laughs out loud at the absurdity. Instead, she keeps herself in check and takes a seat beside Lena. Perching herself at the edge of the seat, she turns and angles her body towards the dark haired woman until their knees touch.

  
“So, bad day, huh?” Sam questions softly, her eyes watching Lena’s features as the steely mask of the Chief Executive Officer slips for a moment and the terrified young woman underneath peeks through. 

  
Lena’s response is somewhere between a huff and a laugh, lips curling at the corners as she eyes the cup between her palms, “You could say that.”

  
“So, you wanna talk about it?” 

  
“I don’t want to burden you,” Lena says as she avoids the pressing hazel gaze lingering on her features. She looks at the cup in her hands. Her $900 shoes. The plush carpet beneath their feet. She looks everywhere in an attempt to escape the warmth of Sam’s gaze.

  
For the second time today, Sam dramatically rolls her eyes, “You’re not burdening me,” she reassures with a smile, dipping her chin to try to find Lena’s eyes, “this is what friends are for. You talk, I listen. Then someday when I need it, I talk while you listen. Friendship: a reciprocal relationship.”

  
Lena nods, taking a long sip of her coffee before giving in to Sam’s gaze, allowing their eyes to meet for a beat. 

  
“Right,” Lena says, pressing her lips into a firm line.

  
It dawns on her, then, that maybe neither of them is really all that experienced in the friendship department. Hell, the closest thing that Sam has had to an actual friend in the past 8 years is her daughter, Ruby. _An 8 year old, that’s normal, Samantha._ Long gone were the luxuries of confidants and late night conversations. It isn’t exactly the easiest to make friends when every moment of your life is spent between work, your kid and what little sleep you can fit in amongst the other two. 

  
That’s why being friends with Lena is easy. They each understand the demands of work, the stress and late nights filled with reports and conference calls. Sure, they were still finding their way, learning to open up and communicate outside of board rooms and rushed lunches. But it’s more than each of them has experienced recently.

  
“It’s… well, it’s my brother,” Lena says carefully, setting her cup delicately on the table so she can knit her fingers together in her lap.

  
A pregnant pause before she sighs heavily and continues:

  
“As you know, this is his company. But lately I’m finding that maybe his beliefs and motives are not quite in line with the values that my father’s company should hold. Lex has become quite distracted, to the point where I believe it to be detrimental to his health. It has become difficult to work with him in both a personal and professional manner.”

  
Sam’s brow lifts, “How so?” 

  
“Well, for one, I haven’t actually seen him in two weeks.”

  
“ _Two weeks_?!” Sam exclaims, gasping before she can stop herself. A hand flies to cover her mouth, as if it is going to do any good now that the words have already escaped. To be honest, she’s never been great at filtering her own expressions. But for someone as prominent as Lex Luthor to be radio silent for two weeks was rather alarming.

  
If Lena is bothered by the shock, it doesn’t show. She barely flinches at the inflection of Sam’s voice, forgoing words and answering instead with a delicate nod of her head.

  
“And let me guess, you’re running everything while he’s gone?” Sam shakes her head, setting her cup on the table before she turns fully to face Lena, resting an open palm on her forearm, “Lena, that’s _too much_. You shouldn’t have to take on all that work alone.”

  
The comfort of Sam’s touch catches Lena off guard and she tenses at the unexpected contact. Sam’s hand gives a faint squeeze, a reassuring gesture, and that’s all it takes for Lena’s resolve to crumble. The rigid posture falters and she deflates, exhaling on a loud sigh.

  
“No, I know,” she starts, raising a hand and pinching at the bridge of her nose, “but I can’t allow Luthor Corp to be run into the ground. It’s my duty in his absence to ensure that things run smoothly and see to it that the board is not privy to Lex’s behavior. We can’t afford to lose any of our investors.”

  
Sam frowns, “I wish there was something more I could do to help. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all of that on your own.”

  
“Well, coffee is a good start,” Lena replies with the first semblance of a genuine smile that Sam has seen from her all day, “Pastries? Definitely on the right track. Now, if you’ve got scotch in your purse you might become my new favorite employee.”

  
“I’m not already?” Sam laughs, and it elicits a soft chuckle from Lena in return. A warmth spreads deep in her chest and settles comfortably there. It’s heavy, but pleasant. A lingering presence in a place that’d been vacant for nearly a decade.

  
“That’d be a conflict of interest now wouldn’t it, Ms. Arias? It’s hardly fair to show favoritism based on friendship alone,” Lena replies, hesitating a moment before giving Sam’s shoulder a playful nudge with her own. She lingers at the point of contact, shoulder pressed to Sam’s as she smirks, “The title must be earned.”

  
“With scotch? Very professional. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get me drunk,” Sam teases.

  
“Very bold of you to assume that I’d have to try,” the raven haired woman replies assertively. 

  
Their eyes meet and it’s in that moment that Sam realizes just how close their bodies have shifted. On the soft leather couch they’re shoulder the shoulder, knees nearly slotted together. Close enough for Sam to notice the soft dusting of freckles across Lena’s cheeks and slope of her nose, their glow diminished by a layer of foundation. Lena doesn’t seem as affected by their proximity, her eyes holding fast toSam’s, bright and reflective against the room’s soft lighting. 

  
There is a soft knock at the door, and maybe Sam’s a little grateful because the energy thrumming beneath her skin never leads to anything but impulsive action and the consequences that follow. Lena is quick to adjust her posture until she’s back in CEO mode, poised and composed. 

  
Jess enters slowly, careful as though she expects Lena’s bad day energy to result in an outburst. With an apologetic smile, she glances between the two women, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Luthor. But Mrs. Luthor is on line one, she insists that it’s urgent.”

  
“Thank you, Jess. Please let her know I’m just wrapping up here if she’s able to hold for two minutes,” Lena replies, the softness from moments ago shrouded by the strictly-business tone of her voice.

  
The young woman nods, offering one last apology before she backs out of the room and closes the door with a soft ‘click’.

  
“If it were anyone but my mother I’d absolutely tell them to fuck off,” Lena replies as she finds her feet and offers a hand to help Sam stand, “But, with Lex off doing god knows what, I should probably act as though everything is under control.”

  
“Definitely understandable,” Sam says as she accepts Lena’s hand and finds her feet. She tidies the space, tossing their empty cups and wiping crumbs from the coffee table before finally running out of excuses to linger. With her hand on the door knob she pauses, cursing herself before turning back towards where Lena is ready to pick up the receiver, “Come over for dinner tonight. It’s nothing fancy, just me and Ruby but I feel like if I leave you here you’ll be in the exact same spot in the exact outfit when I come back tomorrow morning.”

  
“I don’t know, Sam,” Lena sighs, hand gripped around the receiver where undoubtedly her mother is waiting impatiently on the other end, “There is so much to do, I really should say no.”

  
“Good thing it wasn’t a question then,” Sam smirks, reaching into her purse for her phone, “We’ll see you at 7pm, Ms. Luthor.”

  
She ducks into the hallway before the woman can manage an objection.  
  
  



End file.
